Harry Potter and the Dark Apprentice
by Triskel
Summary: It is Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There are new students in the school and new adventures to face as evil Lord Voldemort returns to power.... But is he alone?
1. Arabella

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and practically everything else are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. A couple of things are mine.  
  
  
  
1  
  
Harry Potter sat with his back to the poorly papered wall of his bedroom, listening to the rain thundering down on the tiled roof of number four, Privet Drive. He had been watching an intensely boring Muggle movie on TV all morning, and he was now as the product of it thoroughly depressed.  
  
There was a flash of lightning and a distant rumble of thunder as Harry pondered over his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lord Voldemort had come back yet again, this time with a new body, and seemingly ten times as evil and powerful as he had been before. And somehow, Harry had been responsible for it all.   
  
Harry still blamed himself for Cedric Diggory's death. If he hadn't offered Cedric the Triwizard Cup... if he had just taken it himself.... Then Cedric wouldn't have died. But both of them had been transported by the Triwizard Cup, at the same time. It had happened, and nothing could help it now. Harry sighed heavily and leaned back, trying to block out the fear and the pain as he listened to the rain upon the window.   
  
Somehow, that rain was getting just too loud. Harry got up impatiently and threw open the window; suddenly he was face to face with two owls. One, large and snowy, was his own owl, Hedwig. The other was tiny and brown; it was his friend Ron Weasley's owl, Pigwidgeon. Harry let them in, and they collapsed onto Hedwig's perch after dropping two packages, dripping wet, onto Harry's bed.   
Harry grinned at them, poured a little water into Hedwig's feeding bowl, and picked up his packages. The smallest one was from Ron Weasley. He opened the letter that was attached to it and read it out loud to the two birds.   
  
Hello, Harry!  
What's up? You're fifteen already!  
  
Harry gasped. Ron was right; it was the first of August, the day before had been his birthday, and he hadn't even noticed.   
  
Ginny's here beside me. She says happy birthday.   
Dad says Hogwarts is getting plenty of new transfers from Durmstrang this year. He says they haven't got anyone new for Headmaster since Karkaroff fled.  
Any clue who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is?   
  
Bye,   
Ron  
  
P.S.: Hope you like my present!  
  
Harry tore off the wet and sturdy wrapping paper, uncovering a small, thin book with silver letters proclaiming its name on the black cover: The Legend of the Knot of Eternity. A small note had been attached to it with spellotape, and Ron's familiar writing read:  
  
Hermione chose it for me, she says it's really good, although it's just a myth. Wait until you see hers, it's awesome. -Ron   
  
Harry grinned again, folded up the letter, and placed the book back on his bed. He picked up Hermione's present, nearly dropping it; it was very heavy. Sitting on the bed with the large package on his lap, he proceeded to unwrap it. The brownish paper fell off easily, revealing a huge book with a scarlet leather cover and gold-rimmed pages. The curly, golden title was, quite simply, iThe Art of Dueling/i. Harry gaped at it, then laughed out loud. The rest of the summer might not be so bad after all. Harry opened Hermione's letter with enthusiasm.   
  
Dear Harry:  
  
Happy Birthday! Did you like my present? I got it at Flourish & Blott's this summer with Ron (Ginny invited me over for a couple of weeks in July).  
Lavender wrote me last month and she says the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher will be a witch, but I'm not too sure where she got that from.  
We're going to Diagon Alley on the 9th. Will we see you there?  
  
Love from  
Hermione.  
  
Harry folded up the letter and looked at his watch; it was nearly dinner time. He hid the books and the letters under a loose floorboard, wrote Ron a quick answer with a Muggle pen, and sent it back with Pigwidgeon. Then he went down to the kitchen for dinner.   
The Dursleys never starved him, but they never gave him too much food either. And they always, invariably, ignored him. So it was certainly very strange when Uncle Vernon turned to him after dessert and said gruffly:   
  
"We're going to Majorca for a month, boy, and we're not about to take you with us."  
  
"Will I stay here by myself?" asked Harry timidly, his heart giving a leap.   
  
"Don't interrupt! You'll stay at Mrs. Figg's. She's willing to take you in."  
  
Harry's heart sank to his feet. Mrs. Figg was a grouchy old lady whose house reeked of cats and whose monotonous lifestyle possibly even excelled the Dursleys' in boredom.   
  
"You'll stay there until the 31st, and no funny business, you hear?"  
  
Harry's mind was racing. Until the 31st? When was he to get his Hogwarts materials? He had gotten his Hogwarts letter several days before, and many new books were required.   
  
"But what about - " he tried to protest.   
  
"No buts!" roared Uncle Vernon. "We don't want anyone to know about your - abnormality. You're going to Mrs. Figg's, and you're staying there until we come back! You hear me?"   
  
"Yes, sir," replied Harry, thinking hard. He would sneak away from Mrs. Figg's, or send Ron another letter, or something.   
  
"And you will be leaving your - stuff here until we come back," Uncle Vernon added nastily, almost as if he were reading Harry's mind.  
  
*  
  
The next day, the Dursleys dropped Harry off at Mrs. Figg's door on their way to the airport. The only thing Harry carried was a small, torn backpack with his clothes in it. It had been thoroughly searched by Aunt Petunia, so his wand, his broomstick, his Invisibility Cloak, and his spellbooks, were all locked in his room at number four, Privet Drive.   
Mrs. Figg opened the door and let him in, muttering something about "grimy adolescents". Then she told Harry where his room was and left him to his own devices.   
  
*  
  
The next few days were probably the most boring Harry had ever been through in his whole life. Mrs. Figg's house hadn't had cats in it for several years, but it still smelled of them. Harry stayed in his room except during mealtimes, and those weren't too often either. Mrs. Figg's cooking tasted very little and often looked slightly mouldy, but he ate it anyway, fearing starvation otherwise.   
  
As the 8th of August came around, Harry became slightly desperate. He'd told Ron that he would be seeing him and Hermione in Diagon Alley on the 9th. What would happen if he didn't show up? Would Ron drive by the window on a flying car like he had during their second year? Harry thought this highly unlikely, so he finally decided that Mrs. Figg must, somehow, be told about his - iabnormality/i.  
  
Harry stepped out of his room and down the stairs to the living room, where Mrs. Figg was sitting in a spindly armchair, knitting something amorphous and grey. Harry walked up to her and cleared his throat, which had suddenly gone dry.  
  
"Yes?" inquired Mrs. Figg shortly, looking up from her knitting and looking at Harry through wiry glasses. Harry noticed for the first time that her eyes were strangely amber-colored. He cleared his throat again and swallowed.   
  
"Mrs. Figg... er.... There's something I have to tell you...." Harry said weakly, his eyes riveted to the ground.   
  
"Yes?" she asked again. Harry could have sworn there was a glint of laughter in her eyes. He blinked.   
  
"Well, I had... this... er... appointment with some friends of mine and it's... um... tomorrow."  
  
"So?" Mrs. Figg asked. There was no mistake now; she was grinning. This was definitely strange.   
  
"And...." Harry went on, "I need to get to London somehow."   
  
"Don't worry, Harry, I'll make sure you get there," said Mrs. Figg, smiling openly. 'She's got really even teeth', thought Harry blankly before he realized what she had said.   
  
"Really? You - you will?"  
  
"Certainly. We'll leave tomorrow, first hour."  
  
*  
  
Harry got up very early the next morning. He had no idea how Mrs. Figg was going to get him to London, but he was down in the living room "first hour" anyway. He paced around the shabby sofa for a solid half hour before finally going up the steps and knocking impatiently on Mrs. Figg's bedroom door.  
  
"Mrs. Figg?" he called. "I think we're not going to get to London anytime today!"  
  
"Of course we are!" came a voice from the inside of the bedroom. Harry heard strangely sharp footsteps coming towards the door and a key turning in the lock....  
  
A young woman of about thirty-five opened the door. She had light brown hair and soft, golden eyes, and she was smiling. She was wearing neat dark blue robes... irobes/i?  
  
"Well, Harry?" she asked laughingly. "Shall we go?"  
  
Harry gaped at her.   
  
"Who - ?" he croaked feebly. "Who are you?"   
  
"Let's go down to the living room, and I'll explain a little better," she said, stepping out of the room. "I'm Arabella Figg." 


	2. Diagon to King's Cross

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and practically everything else are property of Joanne Kathleen Rowling. Arabella Figg's personality belongs to me, and so do a couple other things. Not much though.  
  
2  
  
"What?" exclaimed Harry as he followed Arabella Figg down the stairs and into the living room. "You're Mrs. Figg? How - ?"  
  
Arabella Figg smiled as she settled onto the spindly armchair.   
  
"It's a rather long story, Harry... you might want to sit down." Harry did so, and Arabella talked on.   
  
"I went to Hogwarts with your mother, Hary...." she said softly. "I remember her well.You have her eyes, although I expect you've already been told that?" Harry swallowed and nodded. "But besides that, you are exactly like your father. I remember him too." Arabella Figg looked down at her feet for a few seconds, then renewed the one-sided conversation. "Lily was one of my best friends. So when Voldemort... killed her and James, since I was - and am - your godmother...." Harry jumped.   
  
"You're my godmother? Then you know about Sirius?"  
  
"Indeed I do," Arabella said, smiling. "I don't think I'll ever forget the day last month when Sirius walked in with Remus Lupin beside him. Sirius was saying, 'You won't believe this, Arabella, but I'm not horrid and evil after all!' Just like him. Of course, I'd already known."  
  
"You had?" asked Harry uneasily.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore had already contacted me. But before that, I'd have more readily believed that Voldemort had become good and kind than accepted Sirius as one of his followers." She shrugged. "But on with the story.... Since I felt rather responsible for you, and since Professor Dumbledore had asked me to, I moved into a house near to the Dursleys' and took a potent Aging Potion to make me look old and uninteresting. I was able to keep close watch on you."  
  
"I've heard about Aging Potions," said Harry, remembering the Weasley twins' antics with the Goblet of Fire during his fourth year, "But how did you... er... get young again?"  
  
"An Aging Potion reversal charm," said Arabella, grinning openly. "It's fast and easy to work, and I needed to get you to London today.... I suppose it's Diagon Alley you need to go to?"  
  
Harry nodded, still not quite believing his luck.   
  
"But I haven't got my wand, or my booklist, or anything... it's all locked up in my room at the Dursleys'."  
  
"That isn't really a problem," said Arabella Figg. "I'll be back in a minute." And she Disapparated.   
  
Harry paced around for five or ten minutes, until Arabella suddenly reappeared with a pop, carrying Harry's trunk in her left hand, his wand in her right. She handed it to him and Harry pocketed it, along with a bag of Galleons and his Hogwarts booklist, which he retrieved from his trunk.   
  
"Well," said Arabella, pocketing her own wand, "shall we leave?"   
  
"Certainly," replied Harry, "But... how?"  
  
"Ever heard of Floo Powder?"  
  
"Oh, no...." Harry groaned.   
  
*  
  
They arrived through a fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron, and after greeting the innkeeper cheerily and dusting themselves off, they tapped on the third brick above the trash bin and entered Diagon Alley.   
  
The first place Harry and Arabella Figg went to was Flourish & Blotts', which was practically empty, except for three people who were looking at books on Animagi. One of them, a girl in her teens with bright red hair, turned around to stare at Harry when he came in. Then she turned to the boy beside her.   
  
"Oh look, Ron! It's Harry!"  
  
"Harry!"  
  
"Ron! Hermione! Ginny!"  
  
"Harry, we thought you weren't going to get here! We'd looked everywhere!" said Hermione.   
  
"Who'd you come with?" asked Ron.   
  
"With my godmother," replied Harry, grinning. "It turned out she lives near me and the Dursleys. Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, this is Arabella Figg."  
  
"Pleased to meet you all," said Arabella, shaking each of their hands in turn.   
  
*  
  
The next few weeks at Arabella Figg's house were among the best ones in Harry's life. His godmother told him a lot about Lily, James, the Marauders, and their life at Hogwarts before Voldemort rose to power. During those weeks Harry felt almost, but not quite, like he had his mother back.   
  
*  
  
On the 31st of August, the Dursleys came back from their holidays in Majorca. Arabella had sneaked Harry's trunk back up to his room at number four, Privet Drive, the day before, and had taken another draught of Aging Potion before the Dursleys arrived.   
  
When Uncle Vernon asked Arabella if Harry had behaved himself, old Mrs. Figg replied something about "totally exhausted... but it brightens me up once in a while...." She winked at Harry when the Dursleys weren't looking, and slipped a bag of Chocolate Frogs into his backpack.   
  
*  
  
Uncle Vernon drove Harry to King's Cross Station the next day. As usual, he left Harry to find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for himself, not in the least caring whether he got lost or not.   
  
Harry didn't get lost though, quite contrary to his uncle's wishes. As he walked nonchalantly through the solid barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten, he wondered vaguely who would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year.   
  
But the thought left his mind as he spotted Ron, Hermione, and Ginny talking to Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Fred and George Weasley. He walked over to them and talked a while, before they were joined by Neville Longbottom, who had, once again, lost his toad.   
  
A few minutes after that, they boarded the train to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville all went into the same compartment, all anticipating the next year at Hogwarts.   
  
The Hogwarts Express was about to leave, and the doors had already closed, when suddenly a strangely familiar voice could be heard crying out:   
  
"Wait! Wait! Stop ze train!"   
  
It stopped. Everyone in the compartment crowded against the window, but nobody saw who had stopped the train, until their compartment door opened and a strikingly beautiful girl with long, silver-blonde hair walked in. She looked around the compartment, and her large, light blue eyes rested on -   
  
" 'Arry!"  
  
Harry gasped.   
  
"Fleur?"  
  
---------------------------  
  
Author's Note: Haha, another cliffhanger. What's Fleur Delacour doing on the Hogwarts Express? Next chapter coming soon! Now, Review!  
  
Many thanks to Silver, who was the first one to review, and to Rae, Lily, Jedia12, Hermione Granger Weasley, LTBaby5, WedgeScriv, KNA, Scott Potter, Katameran, and Herm, who were the next ones to review, in that order. Thank you all! (And I hope I didn't misspell any names or miss anybody!)  
  
And a very special thank-you to James Horner and John Williams, who compose really inspiring music. :) 


	3. The Sorting

Claimer: The Sorting Hat's song, Ravi Patil, Andrea Ray, Ally Trevor, Aquilus Warwick, Aíxa Dowrdraiodoir, Drimus Kour, and Karakachka Yudi are my property.   
Disclaimer: Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.   
  
-----------  
  
The silver-blonde girl named Fleur Delacour giggled and sat next to Harry.   
  
"Bonjour to all of you!" she said cheerily, waving her long and delicate fingers in a gesture of acceptance.   
  
"Fleur ... um ... What are you doing here? Going to Hogwarts, I mean?" inquired Harry, very confused.   
  
"Zey 'ave taken me in as one of ze staff," replied Fleur.   
  
"Not the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right?" asked Hermione.   
  
"No, I am 'elping ze Madame Pomfrey in ze 'Ospital Wing," Fleur said, smiling with her white and perfectly straight teeth in Harry's general direction. Everybody sighed in relief.   
  
But then, who would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?  
  
Only time would tell, but Harry couldn't help hoping it would be Sirius.   
  
*  
  
A long train ride later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood before Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As he waited for Professor McGonagall to open the large oak doors of the school, Harry looked around, hoping to spot the transfer students Hermione had mentioned. Ron, however, was quicker than him.   
  
"Harry - look!" he said, pointing.   
  
Harry looked, and so did Hermione. Three teenagers, two girls and a boy, were exiting one of the magical horseless carriages. They were dark, and looked very gloomy in their black Hogwarts robes.   
  
"Durmstrang transfers," whispered Hermione. Somehow, a large number of students heard her, and almost half the crowd turned to stare at them. The transfers would have felt very unconfortable then, had not Professor McGonagall opened the doors that very instant. They entered, and the transfers, led by one of the Professors, disappeared in the general direction of Professor Dumbledore's office.   
  
There was a quite unnatural pause of approximately ten minutes before Dumbledore entered the Great Hall, followed by McGonagall and the First Years. After everyone was seated, McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on its usual stool, and it began to sing.   
  
"Hundreds of years before your time  
In a land beside the sea  
There lived four mages of great mind  
Wise, powerful, and free.   
  
"They founded here the School you see  
And wove into its walls  
White magic and enchantments, deep  
Into its rooms and halls.   
  
"Here long they lived, teaching the young  
In the ways of wizard-art;  
And soon they found a perfect way  
To rank young mages apart.   
  
"You may belong in Gryffindor,   
Where bravery sets them apart;   
You may belong in Hufflepuff,   
Where dwell the kind of heart.   
  
"You may belong in Ravenclaw:  
There are at home the clever;  
Or you may belong in Slytherin,  
Where slyness dwells forever.  
  
"So put me on your head, and I  
Will look into your mind  
And judge you closely by the traits  
That in you I may find."  
  
Applause rang throughout the Hall. The Hat bowed to each of the four tables, then remained still. Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a long piece of parchment in her hands, and started reading out names.   
  
Harry yawned and leaned back in his chair. He wondered which Houses the transfers would be sorted into. He gazed at them for a while; they were standing uneasily, a little apart from the crowd of First Years. They looked like potential Slytherin material to Harry, except perhaps the tallest of the girls. She had twinkling black eyes and a certain friendly look about her. Harry kept staring, until the girl turned and smiled. He blushed and smiled back shyly, then turned back to the Sorting.   
  
"Patil, Ravi" had just been sorted into Gryffindor. He ran over to join his sister Parvati at the Gryffindor table, amid loud cheers. After him came "Ray, Andrea", who belonged to Ravenclaw, "Trevor, Ally", who was sorted into Hufflepuff, and "Warwick, Aquilus", a Slytherin.   
  
After that, a brief silence; then, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward.   
  
"My dear alumni!" he said. "I welcome you all to this new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This year, due to the unlucky state of Headmasterlessness the Durmstrang Institute is in, we have received three transfers from there. They will now be Sorted."  
  
McGonagall stepped forward again, and looked at the bottom of the parchment. Her eyes widened slightly, and she pushed her squareish glasses further up her nose, squinting at the parchment.   
  
"Dowrdraiodoir, Aíxa," she read, very slowly. The shortest of the two girls walked to the stool and sat down. There was nothing remarkable about her. Her face was thin and pointy, and her straight, raven-dark hair fell unobtrusively in a long braid to her waist. The only things unusual about her were her eyes. They were dark and deep; "As if you could never reach the bottom of them," thought Harry vaguely, before the brim of the Sorting Hat fell over Dowrdraiodoir's dark eyes.   
  
"Dowrdraiodoir, Aíxa" remained seated a long time. Students all around the Great Hall started looking at their watches, and some, like Ron, groaned impatiently, thinking of their empty stomachs.   
  
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the Hat, at long last. Dowrdraiodoir snatche the Hat off her head, left it on the stool, and walked off to the Slytherin table, amidst thundering cheers and cat-calls.   
  
"Kour, Drimus," called Professor McGonagall. The Durmstrang boy stepped forward. He was also dark-eyed, although his hair was brown. He was tall and powerfully built; a wave of giggles broke out among the female audience as he sat down and put the Sorting Hat on.   
  
"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted, almost immediately.   
  
"Yudi, Karakachka," said McGonagall. The third transfer stepped forward, and a hush fell over the students. Karakachka Yudi was tall, slim, and delicately built. Her hair, in soft, dark ringlets, fell loosely down her back; it reached past her waist. Her face was delicate and heart-shaped; her eyes, rimmed by long, black eyelashes, were bright blue. Drimus Kour bowed slightly to her and handed her the Hat, before heading to the Gryffindor table. Karakachka Yudi placed the Sorting Hat on her head with her long, delicate hands.   
  
"RAVENCLAW!" it shouted after a few minutes. Karakachka took the Hat off elegantly and walked to the Ravenclaw table, smiling perfectly.   
  
"And now," said Dumbledore, standing up again, "before we eat, I shall be glad to present Madam Pomfrey's new assistant, come directly from France - I believe most of you know her - Fleur Delacour!"  
  
There was a loud applause as Madam Pomfrey's new assistant stood up. Ron grinned stupidly.   
  
"I think we'll be spending a lot of time in the Hospital Wing this year, won't we, Harry?" Harry grinned back.   
  
"And I would also like to introduce you," continued Dumbledore, after the applause had died down a little, "to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who is right this instant coming through the door ... "  
  
There was an instant of complete silence as hundreds of pairs of eyes turned towards the door of the Great Hall, where a smiling woman was standing.   
  
-----------  
  
A.N.: Another cliffhanger! Ha ha ha! I love them.   
Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last two chapters, especially Keith Fraser, because I admire his fanfiction :). Lots of thanks to John Williams, Vivaldi, Bach, Beethoven, Pachelbel, and Trio Nocturna, for making such great inspiring music (even if most of them are dead)! 


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